Concierge Confessions

con·cierge: noun. [pronounced: kôNˈsyerZH] 1. A hotel employee whose job is to assist guests by making theater and restaurant reservations, etc. 2. A hotel employee with an involuntary-sarcasm problem and a desk.

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The weekly game I like to call "Guess The Place They Barely Remember Being That One Time By Deciphering The Vague Details They Sort Of Recall".

"I was here in Chicago several years ago, maybe like 15 or 20 years ago, and I remember I went to the best restaurant I've ever been to and I want to go back if it's still around. It was so good, I remember exactly what I had. It was this veal thing."

Okay, what restaurant was it?

"Well I don't remember the name, but maybe you can help. I wasn't staying in this hotel, but the hotel wasn't too far from here. I think this was in the 1990's. I know we walked to Michigan Avenue from the hotel and it seemed pretty close."

The restaurant was on Michigan?

"No, but not far from it. It might have been west of Michigan Avenue. I think we walked there from Michigan."

What kind of restaurant was it?

"Maybe Italian. Or just like European cuisine. Or French."

What did the restaurant look like?

"When you walked into the restaurant on one side there was a bar and then on the other there were like tables in the dining room.  It was in this one building... maybe on a corner? It was on the first floor."

A restaurant with a bar and tables in a building? Yeah, I'm not sure what restaurant that could have been. I'm sorry.

"I had chocolate cake for dessert."

Did you have coffee with your cake?

"No, I don't think so."

Hm... I still don't know. Sorry.

"Or maybe that restaurant was in Toronto..."

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The rhythm of the words emphasized by insane people is music to this concierge’s ears

“That girl just cut in front of me.”

Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.

“Well, you wouldn’t. You didn’t even look at me when you were on the phone before.”

I apologize, but I didn’t actually see you here in line before.

“I was waiting over there in the bar reading while you were on the phone. I saw you were on the phone and I didn’t want to be rude, so I sat down. And she just walked right up! Pay better attention! It’s not really fair that I was patient and sat down to read, but she got helped first just ‘cause she walked right up to your desk and stood in front of you!”

I’m really so sorry. I assure you I’ll watch out for you in the future.

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The hotel is conveniently located just steps from the Magnificent Mile and never too far from a Chicago style hotdog…

“Could I walk to Nordstrom from here?”

Sure, it’s just two blocks down to Michigan Avenue, then make a left at Michigan and it’s half a block down.

“Great! Thanks!”

(20 minutes later the phone rings.)

Good afternoon. Thank you for calling the concierge desk. How may I assist you?

“Yes, I spoke to you a bit ago about directions to Nordstrom…”

Oh yes. How can I help?

“Well I think I got a bit lost…”

Okay, where are you located now?

“I don’t know. I’m lost.”

Alright, do you know what street you are on?

“No.”

Are there any landmarks around you you can see?

“I just passed a hotdog factory.”

A hotdog factory?

“Yeah, it’s really industrial looking over here.”

Are you sure? There isn’t a hotdog factory downtown…

“It’s next to the freeway…”

You’re on the freeway!?!?

“Yeah, it says ‘Vienna Beef’ on the factory.”

That’s impossible! The Vienna Beef factory is almost 5 miles from here, you couldn’t have walked that far in 20 minutes.

“Oh, I decided to drive. I thought it would be easier.”

I see. Well, then you need to turn around and come back downtown. 

“So I passed Nordstrom already?”

Yes, you did…

(60 minutes later at my desk.)

“I made it back!”

Glad to see it! Did you find Nordstrom?

“Yeah, but they wanted like 25 bucks to park over there so I just brought the car back here and I’m going to walk there now. I’m not paying that much to park”

Yeah, parking is expensive here in Chicago.

“Not at the Vienna Beef factory! Their parking lot is free!” (Holds up a shopping bag full of hot dogs.)

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I should have studied Spanish in school.

"Do you speak Spanish?"

No, I don't, I'm sorry.

"Do any of the concierge? I need a recommendation for a restaurant, but my English isn't very good."

I'm the only concierge now, but I'll be happy to help. Your English sounds pretty good.

"No, it isn't. Do you speak French or Italian?"

No, only English. But I can understand you perfectly, really. I'm happy to try and help.

"No, it's too difficult. Don't worry about it."

Really, I'll speak slowly and write it down for you.

"No, I won't understand it. But thank you very much anyway. Goodbye."

Adios.

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I wish Mr. Smith had gone to Washington...

...And what name should I put the dinner reservation under?

"Ronald."

Thank you, and the last name, sir?

"Just use Ronald."

The restaurant will ask me for a last name.

(Sighs.) "It's really long and hard to spell."

With this job I'm used to long last names. I can handle it. 

"I wasn't worried about you."

Oh... you can't...?

"Of course I can, it's my name!"

Of course you can, sir.

"Look, why don't you just make up a last name if you're so worried about it, okay?"

Okay, how about I just put it under the last name 'Smith'?

"Smith?" (Laughs.) "Really? There's got to be at least a thousand Ron Smiths in this city.  That won't do any good. Pick something less common." Okay, how about McDonald?

"Just use Smith."

Anything you say, Mr. Smith.

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"Quick Question" (a.k.a. The most unnerving way a guest can start a conversation with me.)

"Quick question: We just flew in from San Francisco and our plane was an hour and a half late because of technical problems, whatever that means. We were going to take the shuttle from the airport originally, but because the flight was delayed we took a taxi thinking it would be faster, but with traffic it still took almost an hour. We had 7 o'clock dinner reservations for tonight but it's already 7:30 now so there's not even a point to call and cancel the reservations. So we'll just drop our luggage in the room real fast and go grab something casual to eat nearby at a bar or something. I'm not even going to change, I'll just go dressed like this. That's how hungry I am. My wife is checking in now with the front desk, but we were rushing to get here as soon as we could and I didn't get a chance to stop at the airport, so I was wondering where is the nearest restroom?"

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Sometimes people just really love to argue. But I don't.

"I need to print my boarding pass, is there a free computer I can use?" 

Yes there is, it's right- 

"Because in the business center they charge." 

We have a complimentary computer for boarding passes right here. 

"I really don't want to pay $8.95 just to print my boarding pass."

Not a problem, this computer is free. 

"I just need to use it for 2 minutes. You understand why I wouldn't want to pay for 2 minutes?" 

I do. Let me show you the free computer. 

"I pay $50 for a month of internet at home, I just can't see spending $9 for 2 minutes." 

This one will cost $0 for any amount of minutes. 

"They really should not charge people to print a borading pass." 

We don't. Here is the free computer. Now please use it.

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Most concierges actually do have at least a 5th grade spelling capability.

...and what is the last name for the reservation?

"I'll spell it for you: S as in Sam, M as in Mary, I as in...um... Ice Cream, T as in Tom, H as in Harry."

Okay, Mr. Smith. And the first name?

"Bill. That's B as in... um..."

...as in Bill? Yeah, I got it.

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I don't know what's slower- the people or my computer.

"Can you print my boarding pass?"

Yes, if it's within 24 hours of the flight & you have the airline reference number?

"Yeah, I do."

Let me pull up the airline's website.

"My reference number is-"

One moment, the webpage is loading.

"Are there seats on the isle?"

I'm not sure. It's still loading.

"Did you find it yet?"

No. It's still loading.

"The number is-"

Still loading... (silence) ...Okay, now it's loaded. What's the number?

"XP2L9W."

It can't retrieve the reservation. This flight is within 24 hours?

"No, it's later this week."

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A sampling of real questions I'm not allowed to laugh at (and the sarcastic answers I'm not allowed to actually give):

"How do I get to the part of Chicago where West Side Story took place?" (I'm pretty sure that took place in Detroit.)

"What state are we in?" (I'm in the state of amazement.)

"Where did Oprah go to church?" (Who's Oprah?)

"Can I pay the cash deposit with a credit card?" (Yes, but there is a cash fee for that.)

"Is Chinatown really that much like China?" (Well, depends if you're talkin' the Yuán, Míng or Qīng dynasty.)

"Where in Chicago gets the best cell service?" (Suspiciously enough, the basement of U.S. Cellular Field.)

"Will it be very cold in that restaurant?" (No, a warm front is heading north up Rush Street as we speak.)

"Would you walk there in three inch heels?" (Well, I'm a guy... so I don't wear my heels out of the house.)

"Is there a good Starbucks in the area?" (Nope.)

"Do they serve food at the 'Taste of Chicago' festival?" (We sent someone over there to check. He should be back in a bit if you'd like to have a seat and wait.)

"Which park will still have snow on the ground this time of year?" (I hear Anchorage has wonderful parks.)

"Did you know this hotel doesn't have a thirteenth floor?" (Yeah. Budget cuts.)

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By this point in the work week, I really need an emotional shock collar.

"Is there a nice restaurant for seafood near the hotel?"

Yes, there is a wonderful place just 5 blocks to the east of our hotel I think you'll really like. It's very nice.

"And you would recommend that?"

I just did. I JUST did!

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Michael J. Fox plays a concierge in For Love or Money (1993). Photo by Unviversal Pictures.

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If you get it up to 88 mph, it'll give you cash.

"Where's the time machine?"

Time machine?

"Yes."

You mean a clock?

"No, I mean a time machine."

Like 'Back to the Future'?

"I don't know what that is. I think you're confused."

Me too.

"I just want to get money from your time machine."

Oh, you mean like an ATM!

"Yes! That's it! What did I say?"

Time machine.

"Time machine? What's that?"

A fictional time travel device.

"Oh no, I certainly don't need that."

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The time my new favorite customer made fun of my least favorite customer.

Least Fav: "Can you have my car brought up?"

Sure, do you have the valet ticket?

Least Fav: "It's in my room."

Oh, well they do need the valet ticket, otherwise there is paperwork they will need you to fill out.

Least Fav: "I don't understand why you need the valet ticket. It's up in my room and I'm not going back to get it! I can tell you what car it is. It's a green Jeep Liberty. There is no reason you need the ticket!"

New Fav: "Yeah, I agree with her. I also have a car but no ticket. It's the red Porsche. Or the Maserati. I'll take either."

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Concentrate please.

(While texting and making no eye contact.) "Where is Michigan?"

Michigan Avenue is just two blocks down when you turn right out of our front door.

"I meant the street Michigan."

Yes, it's two blocks to our right.

"Could I walk there?"

Yes, I think you could. It's only two blocks.

"Okay, how do I walk there?"

Go out of the front door. Turn right. Walk down two blocks.

"Really? That's it?"

That's it.

(Looks up from her texting.) "I'm sorry, I wasn't listening. Can you say that again?"

Certainly. Turn left out of the front door...

"I thought you said right?"

Just making sure...